site by a man called Larry: larryloveswildlife.com.
Joe’s heart thumped as he looked closely at the pins. He studied the faces of the men. They would all be – he checked the year – in their late 60s by now.
‘What are you doing at this time of the morning?’ asked Anna, walking over to him.
‘Research,’ said Joe, batting his hand behind him to keep her back.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘But…it’s been horrible today.’ She spoke softly. ‘Do you want to come to bed?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘No.’
She closed the door gently behind her. John Miller flashed into Joe’s mind. Then he remembered being seven years old, hearing his mother’s raised voice boom against the floorboards of his room.
‘What do you think I do here all day, hah?’
‘You tell me!’ shouted his father.
‘You tell me,’ snorted Maria. ‘I bring up our children. I cook for our children, for you. I clean for our children, for you…that’s what I do all day, every day. But what do you do, Giulio?’
‘I am building a future for our children.’
‘What future?’ said Maria, her voice pitched high. ‘You think this is a future? Parents who never see each other from the start of the week to the end of the week? You’re not the man I want my son to be.’ Everything had gone silent. Then he could hear his mother’s soft footsteps on the stairs, then along the hall to his bedroom. She pushed open the door quietly and slipped into the bed beside him and hugged him close. He could feel her tears on his hair.
He turned back to the screen. Apart from Larry and his wildlife buddies, at least two other people got their hands on those pins and kept them almost twenty years. Donald Riggs would have only been a boy. Why would the same pin be in his hand when he died? Who left the pin outside the bar? He picked up the phone again and followed through this time.
‘Two things, Danny,’ he said. ‘I need you to pull Donald Riggs’ file.’
Silence.
‘The guy, Bowne Park, the explosion…’
‘I know who he is,’ said Danny. ‘I’m just wondering why you’re asking.’
‘I just need his known associates, back in Texas,’ said Joe. ‘If he had any.’
‘Sure,’ said Danny. ‘I can do that. But from what I remember, the guy wasn’t in much trouble before he, you know—’
‘Humour me,’ said Joe. ‘And, uh, would you mind checking the evidence bag for that gold pin, the hawk.’
‘The fact that you’re even trying to make that request sound casual says a lot about you,’ said Danny. ‘What’s going on here?’
‘I’ll tell you when I know myself,’ said Joe. ‘Listen, take care.’ He put the phone down and sat in the darkness before he walked out and upstairs towards the guest bedroom. He was pushing open the door when Anna came out into the hall, hope flickering across her face. He stopped. She was so beautiful, so sexy in everything she did, even now, drawing her hand through her dark, tangled hair. His stomach heaved at the thought of another man touching her. She saw it in his eyes. And the hope died. Joe walked into the strange room and closed the door behind him.
SIXTEEN
Corpus Christi, Texas, 1985
A red banner flapped between two wooden poles at the entrance to Hazel Bazemore County Park: ‘Welcome to Wildlife’.
‘Sounds like a porno,’ said Duke under his breath.
‘Yeah,’ said Donnie.
‘What you boys whisperin’ about?’ said Uncle Bill.
‘Nothin’,’ said Duke. He looked around. ‘This place looks great.’
‘I think you’re gonna like it,’ said Bill, slapping down notes at the booth. ‘You’ll get to see pretty much anythin’ Texas has to offer in the way of wildlife.’
Children were running around, laughing and shouting, pulling their parents in different directions. A giant furry chipmunk and owl were waving and handing out green balloons. Crammed onto every stall were books, toys or information on Texas wildlife. A photographer in a creamcoloured vest pushed through the crowd.
‘Picture, anyone? Take your picture, anyone?’
Four men in what looked like army fatigues, stood like war reporters with their binoculars, cameras and bags strapped across their bodies.
‘Go on, then,’ said one of them. ‘Might as well get one of all of us together. Today is a special day, we saw ourselves a few hundred different birds.’
The photographer stepped back and framed his shot. One click and the moment was preserved.
‘Would you like a picture, boys?’ said Uncle Bill.
‘Nah.’ Donnie ran his hand over his spotty jaw.
‘Nah,’ said Duke.
‘Well, maybe we can commemorate our big day some other way,’ said Uncle Bill.
‘Look,’ said Donnie, pointing to a small stall.
‘I’ll leave you boys to it,’ said Bill. ‘Here’s a few dollars.’
An elderly woman stood shuffling a handful of black rubber rings like they were playing cards. In three rows, like steps behind her, small prizes were mounted on upturned mugs. She looked at the two boys.
‘All you gotta do is hook one of these rings over them and it’s yours!’
‘We know that,’ said Duke.
‘One dollar, five rings.’
Duke handed her two dollars. He looked across the rows and saw a silver digital watch with a flashing red face. He pointed at it.
‘That’s mine,’ he said to Donnie. The woman chuckled. Duke stared at her as he raised his right hand.
‘Like skimmin’ stones,’ he said, turning to Donnie. ‘Simple.’ He focused on the watch, flicked his wrist and the ring landed high, bouncing off the step above. Duke shuffled his feet and steadied his hip against the counter. The rings flew again and again until he had no more left. He was furious.
‘This game’s rigged,’ he said.
‘You watch your mouth, boy,’ said the old woman.
He began to raise his knee up on the counter to climb over. She stepped wide and stood in front of him, her hand poised to hold back his chest. His arm flew up and he hit her hard on the palm, jerking her hand back.
‘Fuckin’ bitch,’ he said. ‘Don’t you fuckin’ touch me.’ He walked away. Donnie followed.
‘It’s three o’clock, boys,’ said Bill. He put his hand on their shoulders and pointed to a low dais where a tall, thin man dressed in beige was straightening a triangular sign on a wooden table.
‘Cool,’ said Duke and Donnie. They walked over to join the crowd gathered in front.
