Race

“Maybe you could get someone who’s worth billions.” I wanted her to stay. I wanted to get to know her.

Hause and Suraj were debating what to do when suddenly the second floor bedroom lights came on. Through the window drapes they could make out someone’s shadow. Joey was inside. But they couldn’t do anything. The old woman was still sweeping away the leaves.

“We shoot her?” Suraj pleaded.

Hause said nothing.

“We shoot and shoot and leave. That’s it.”

Hause understood, two shots: one for the woman and one for Joey.

“No,” Hause said. “There has to be another way.”

Suraj’s eyes suddenly lit up. “I’ll show you.”

He got out of the car and went to the trunk. He pulled out a bag and opened it. Inside, four Molotov cocktail bottles lay side-by-side.

“You made them?” Hause asked.

Suraj moved his head up and down. “We drive up, throw these and drive away,” he said.

Hause thought about it and then agreed. They were wasting too much time. Suraj grabbed two bottles and shut the trunk. That’s when they realized the woman was no longer there. She must have gone inside.

They went back inside the car and waited. When it looked like the street was empty, Suraj put the car in gear and sped toward the house.

The Sundance screeched to a halt right in front of the entrance. Suraj lit one of the Molotov cocktails and got out. Hause fired two shots at the silhouetted figure on the second floor, who fell upon impact. Suraj hurled the Molotov into the window and they were off.

It was done in less than ten seconds.

We were laughing hysterically; I was telling her jokes, well, not really jokes but my stories with comical twists. The waiter took our empty plates and brought us dessert, custard mixed with cake and assorted fruits.

“This place is great,” she said.

“I discovered it,” I said modestly.

That got a small laugh out of her. I liked her smile. Those perfect teeth.

I said, “When will you be coming back to Toronto?”

“I won’t be,” she said.

My face dropped, my chin nearly hitting the table. “Why not?”

“After this contract I might get another elsewhere.”

“So you’re always traveling,” I said, trying hard to conceal my disappointment.

“Yeah.” Her eyes dropped to her dessert. “It doesn’t leave much time for a relationship.”

I nodded.

My cell phone rang. I apologized and answered it. It was my landlady. She was beyond hysterical.

“Slow down…what…fire…where…my house…” So many questions roared through my head. “I’ll be there.” I hung up. I thought about Joey. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have left him alone. Oh, shit. I had a feeling in my belly that something terrible had happened.

“Is everything okay?” I heard Laura say.

My head was spinning. My landlady sounded frightened. She never called me. Never.

“I have to go,” I said and got up.

“Do you want me to come?” Laura said.

“No-no.”

She kissed me on the cheek and I left her in the restaurant and headed for home.

I drove to my house to find it in a blaze. Fire trucks, police vehicles, ambulances, the whole emergency unit was there. I thought about Joey. My stomach turned and something moved up my throat. I threw up right there on the sidewalk.

I was inside Beadsworth’s car on our way to his house. I remembered seeing my landlady, comforted by her son, crying. I remembered seeing the firefighters trying to subdue the flames. I remembered meeting Beadsworth, Aldrich and Garnett. I remembered Beadsworth asking about Joey. Joey was inside the house, I remembered saying.

I remembered vomiting again.

I remembered Garnett saying, “It should have been you.”

I wished it were me.

TWENTY-FOUR

I woke up. The sun streamed through the window and hit my face. I rolled over to shield myself. The room was bare. Beige, with nothing but a bed and a dresser.

I was wearing the clothes I’d worn to dinner the night before. I saw my jacket hung in the open closet and my socks on the floor.

I got up. I moved the blinds and found myself staring down into the back yard. There was a huge pool on the left and a children’s playground, with swings and slides, on the right.

I left the room and walked down a nicely carpeted hall. I went down a spiral staircase to the main floor. I heard noises coming from the living room. I leaned in and saw a woman holding and talking to a baby. She caught me peeking and smiled.

“I hope we didn’t wake you?” she said with a heavy English accent.

I shook my head. “No, I like getting up early.” But then realized it was well past ten.

“I’m Amy.”

“Jon Rupret, R before E.”

“Yes, Phillip told me.” She smiled. “He’ll be in later. What would you like for breakfast? I’m not much of a cook, but I can put something together.”

“Anything is good.”

“Toast and scrambled eggs then?”

She was a little heavy, with brownish cropped hair and intelligent eyes.

The baby cradled in her arms looked at me curiously.

“His name is Liam,” she said. “Liam, this is Officer Rupret. Say hello.” The baby continued staring at me. He was probably wondering who let this guy into the house.

“How old is he?” I asked. I already knew, but what else would you say to a woman holding a baby?

“Five months,” she smiled.

The Beadsworths lived in a very affluent neighbourhood. All the houses in the area resembled mini-mansions. After breakfast I strolled through the house. It was spacious, to say the least, and very opulent.

Fine carpets, marble countertops, exquisite chandeliers-it seemed no expenses were spared decorating.

I’d be the first to admit I didn’t know much about big and expensive houses, but I did occasionally watch Famous Homes and Hideaways. And, this house looked like it belonged in that show.

How could someone on a police officer’s salary afford this?

I went to the living room and placed myself on a stylish black leather sofa. Immediately my body became sucked into the softness. It reminded me of my brief affair with Cal Murray’s sofa.