24
When the trusty brought his breakfast, McCannsaid, “I want to talk to the man in charge of the jail.”
“You mean Ranger Layborn?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“You do that. And take the food back. I can’t eat that crap. Leave the coffee, though.”
He waited for twenty minutes, sitting on his cot drinking weak coffee until the plastic carafe was empty. His stomach hurt and he wondered if he was getting an ulcer. He tried to ignore the video camera aimed at him through the bars outside his cell. It was strange how, at times, he felt people watching him. Like yesterday,when he felt the presence of someone quite strongly, someone new. When it happened he did his best not to move so as not to provide his watchers with anything to see. He wanted to look comfortable, and content, even though he wasn’t. His goal was to show that he could wait them out, drive them crazy. Of course, he knew, as they did, he could walk out anytime. But that was the last thing on earth he wanted to do.
Out of his view, a metal door opened and closed and he heard footsteps coming. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, set his cup aside.
Layborn stopped short of the front of his cell and leaned forward,his face an annoyed mask. “What now?”
“We need to talk.”
“I’m busy.”
“I promise you this will be the most important thing you hear today.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you, Ranger Layborn, need to know which side your bread is buttered. Grab a chair,” McCann said. “Let’s raise the level of discourse. Which means I talk, and you listen with your mouth shut for once.”
Layborn’s good eye bulged, and McCann thought for a secondthat Layborn was going to come in after him. Something made the ranger think twice about it, and instead he withdrew his head, turned angrily while muttering curses, and marched back toward the door.
“If you leave right now without hearing me out,” McCann called after him, “I swear to God I’ll blow this whole thing wide open and you’ll go down with them.”
Silence. Layborn had stopped. He was thinking about it.
“I’m not bluffing,” McCann said.
“
McCann heard the legs of a chair scraping against the concrete.Layborn reappeared reluctantly, raised the chair and slammed it down, sat heavily in it, said, “You’ve got five minutes.” McCann noted Layborn placed the chair far enough from the cell that it couldn’t be seen on the video monitor if anyone looked. He knew there was no sound accompanying the live video feed, so they couldn’t be overheard either.
“That’s all I need. Are you listening? I mean, really listening?”
Layborn’s good eye bored into him. His mouth was set; a vein throbbed angrily in his temple.
“So,” McCann said, “were you the one they were going to send after me? I’d guess so, since you have nothing else to contributeto the deal except your willingness to bash heads. I mean, I wouldn’t guess you’d have much to invest with a park ranger’s salary, right? And they’re not the types who do the dirty work themselves, so they need someone like you, a Neanderthalwith a badge. Your trusty told me about the two old men who got beaten last night. He said they were in a room registeredto Joe Pickett, but no one knows who they were. That was your handiwork, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So when it comes to me, what were you going to do? Come to my office in West Yellowstone, shoot me in the head? Blame it on the angry locals? Was that the plan? Or were you going to bushwhack me somewhere?”
Layborn glared at him, then raised his watch to signal that McCann’s time was quickly passing.
McCann said, “When they didn’t pay or communicate, I knew they went to Plan B. Problem was, they didn’t have a Plan B so they had to come up with one. They’re schemers, but they’re not from the street like I am. I was ten steps ahead of them, as usual. By the time they figured out they had to get rid of me, here I was under protective custody. Maybe they’re finallyrealizing they’re just not smart enough to proceed without me. That’s something I knew all along.”
While McCann talked, he watched blood drain from Layborn’s face, even though the ranger tried hard not to react to anything that he said. But the lack of reaction was a reaction in itself, McCann knew. He’d seen it in witnesses on the stand, and in his own clients. Outrageous accusations should be met with outraged denials if the person accused was innocent. Lack of reaction meant guilt. He had him.
McCann paused, said, “I need you to get a message to them, and you need to get it right.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I think you know. In fact, I know you do.”
“You’re wasting my time. I don’t like talking to lawyers. Lawyers are the problem, not the solution, is the way I think about things.”
“Until you need one.”
“I don’t plan to.”
McCann chanced a smile. “No one ever does.”
“You guys are like wolves. You work the edges of the herd and go after the sick and weak.”
“Wolves are an important part of the ecosystem, Ranger Layborn.”
“I hate wolves.”
“Like the ecosystem, our laws are far too complex for mere mortals to understand. That’s why we need lawyers. It’s not like our laws are moral codes-they’re just a set of rules dreamed up by politicians to keep themselves in power and placate their contributors. I’m a lawyer, and I help powerless mortals cope with the rules and sometimes circumvent them. It’s part of
Layborn started to speak, then shook his head, sputtered, “That’s bullshit.”
“No it isn’t, and you know it,” McCann said softly. “If our laws were honest and based on universal truth, I’d be on death row for six murders. Instead, I can walk out of here any damned time I please.”
“I wish you would,” Layborn growled. “See how far you make it.”
“Ah, now we’re getting to the crux of it.”
“Crux of what? I don’t like this word-game shit.”
“Of course you don’t,” McCann said. “You’re a simple man of the law. And when I say that, I mean it in the worst possible way.”
“Are you insulting me?”
McCann snorted, “Me? Never!”
“I’m leaving,” the ranger said, rising to his feet.
McCann leaped up. “Stop!”
Layborn froze.
“Tell them the slate is clean again. Tell them. No one knows except us. I took care of that for them yesterday. No charge.”
Layborn showed no expression.
“Tell them they have one choice, and one choice only. They can pay me what they owe me or I call the FBI tomorrow and work out a deal for immunity. Got that?”
Layborn hesitated. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Sure you do. Repeat the terms to me so I know they sunk in.”
Layborn stared back with what looked like fear in his eyes. Thank God, McCann thought.
“Repeat it,” he said.
“Pay you what they owe you or you talk,” Layborn muttered.
“Good! And when I say
“I guess.”
