simple, abstract idea of blame. It took me only a second to come up with one: it was the obvious choice, the only thing I really had that I was sure would frighten him.
'If we get caught because of Lou,' I said, 'I'll tell about Pederson. I'll say you murdered him, and that all I did was help you cover it up.'
He stared at me. He didn't understand.
'I'll say I tried to stop you, but you pushed me aside and killed him.'
Jacob seemed genuinely shocked by this. When he spoke, he had to search for his words. 'You killed him, Hank,' he said.
I shrugged, lifted my hands. 'I'll lie, Jacob. If we get caught because of Lou, I'm going to make you pay.'
He grimaced, as if he were in pain. His nose was running, and he rubbed at it with his glove, then wiped his glove on his pants. 'I don't want to be responsible for him,' he said.
'But that was the deal. That was what we agreed upon.'
He shook his head. The folds of flesh beneath his chin, white and marbled, continued to tremble for a second after he stopped. 'I can't control him.'
'You have to talk with him, Jacob.'
'Talk with him?' he asked, his voice exasperated. 'Talking's not going to keep him from doing stuff.'
'Threaten him,' I said.
'With what? You want me to tell him I'll beat him up? Say I'll burn his house down?' He gave a snort of disgust. 'Threaten him.'
We both fell silent. I could hear people moving about in the lobby, getting ready to head home for the night.
'I don't want to be responsible for him,' Jacob said.
'Then I guess we have a problem.'
He nodded.
'Perhaps,' I said, 'we ought to just burn it.'
It was only a bluff, I didn't mean it, and Jacob didn't respond to it. He stared down at my desk, his forehead creased. I could tell that he was struggling to think.
'Lou's not going to get us caught,' he said.
'That's right. Because you're not going to let him.'
Jacob didn't seem to hear me; he was still lost in thought. When he finally spoke, he did so without glancing up at me. 'And if it looks like he is, he could always just get into an accident.'
'An accident?'
'Like Pederson.'
'You mean we could kill him?' I asked, appalled.
He nodded, staring down at my desk.
'Jesus, Jacob. He's your best friend. You can't be serious.'
He didn't answer me.
'The big-time murderer,' I said.
'Come on, Hank. I'm just--'
'Ice him, right? Grease him.' I sneered, my voice rising to mimic his own. ''He could always just get into an accident.' Who do you think you are, Jacob? A gangster?'
He wouldn't look at me.
'You make me sick,' I said.
He sighed, frowning.
'How did you want to do it?' I asked. 'Did you have a plan?'
'I thought we could make it look like a car accident.'
'A car accident. That's brilliant. And how were you going to manage that?'
He shrugged.
'Maybe put him in his car and push him over the bridge into Anders Creek?' I asked.
He started to say something, but I didn't let him.
'We were lucky with Pederson. Everything worked in our favor. That's not going to happen again.'
'I was just thinking--'
'You aren't thinking anything. That's the problem. You're being stupid. Remember how you felt out by the park? You were crying. You were bawling like a baby. You want to go through that again?'
He didn't answer.
'Look out the window,' I said. 'Look across the street, at the cemetery.'
He looked toward the window. It was completely dark now; we couldn't see outside anymore. The glass reflected my office back in at us.
'They buried Dwight Pederson last week. He's out there because of you, because you were greedy and you panicked. How does that make you feel?'
I stared across the desk at him until he looked me in the eye. 'If I hadn't done it,' he said, 'he would've found the plane.'
'You should've let him find it.'
Jacob gave me a perplexed look. 'You killed him,' he said. 'You could've saved him, but you didn't.'
'I killed him to save you, Jacob. It was either him or you, and I chose you.' I paused. 'Maybe I made a mistake.'
He didn't seem to know how to respond to that. He continued to gaze at me, the same confused expression on his face.
'But I'm not going to do it again,' I said. 'Next time I'll give you up.'
'I can't be responsible for him,' Jacob whispered.
'Just talk to him. Tell him I'll burn the money if I think he's screwing things up.'
He stared morosely down into his lap, and I noticed for the first time that he was beginning to get a bald spot. It startled me. If he had lost some weight, he would've looked exactly like our father had at the time of his death. He looked beaten down, defeated.
'I wish we could just split the money up right now,' he said. 'Split it up and run away.'
'That's not what we planned, Jacob.'
'I know.' He sighed. 'I'm just saying what I wish.'
THE NEXT day was Friday. That evening, during dinner, Sarah asked me if I'd talked with Lou yet.
I shook my head. 'Jacob's going to do it.'
We were eating spaghetti, and Sarah was in the midst of helping herself to seconds. 'Jacob?' she asked. She held the serving spoon poised in midair, pasta dangling off it toward her plate. She was wearing a dark blue dress. In the brightly lit kitchen it made her face look wan and anemic.
I nodded.
'Shouldn't you do it yourself?'
'I thought it'd be better if he did it. Lou'll listen to Jacob. He won't listen to me.'
She finished serving herself and set the pot down in the center of the table. 'Are you sure Jacob realizes how serious this is?'
'I scared him a bit,' I said.
Sarah glanced up at me. 'Scared him?'
'I said I'd tell about Pederson if we were caught because of something Lou did.'
'And?'
'At first he panicked a little, but I think it's going to work.' I smiled. 'He even suggested that we kill Lou.'
She seemed unimpressed by this. 'How?' she asked.
'How what?'
'How did he want to kill him?'
