never wanted to see a living thing suffer, animal or human.’ He swallowed, and his voice broke on his next words. ‘Not even himself, at the end.’
Marielle reached out her right hand and placed it gently upon Ernie Scollay’s knitted fingers.
‘Ernie is right,’ she said. ‘You should know, Mr Parker, that they were both good men. I think they did the wrong thing, and their reasons for doing it weren’t wholly justified, not even to themselves, but it was uncharacteristic of them.’
I said nothing, because there was nothing to be said, and they were moving ahead of themselves. They were no longer talking about the buck, but what came after. All I would have by which to judge these two dead men was the tale itself, and that was not yet ended.
‘You were telling me about the buck,’ I said.
It was standing at the edge of a clearing, swaying on its legs, blood and froth at its mouth, the lower part of its hide soaked in red. Harlan and Paul couldn’t figure out how it had kept going for so long, yet it had barely slowed until the last mile or so, when they at last started to catch up with it, and now here it was, seemingly dying where it stood. But as they drew closer it inclined its head toward them, and then back in the direction of the clearing. The trees were so thick at either side of it that, if it had the strength to do so, it could only go on or come back in their direction, and it seemed torn between the two choices. Its eyes rolled, and it sighed deep in itself and shook its head in what Harlan thought was almost resignation.
With the life that was left to it, the buck turned and ran at them. Harlan raised his gun and blasted the animal in the chest. Its momentum took it onward even as its forelegs collapsed beneath it, and it came to rest barely inches from its killers. Harlan thought that he’d never felt worse about an animal, and he hadn’t even fired the original errant shot. The buck’s strength, its desire to survive, had been enormous. It had deserved to live, or at least to die a better death. He looked to his friend, and saw that his eyes were wet.
‘It came right at us,’ said Harlan.
‘But it wasn’t charging us,’ said Paul. ‘I think it was trying to run away.’
‘From what?’ asked Harland. After all, what could be worse than the men who were trying to kill it?
‘I don’t know,’ said Paul, ‘but it’s the damnedest thing.’
‘The damnedest thing,’ agreed Harlan.
But it wasn’t the damnedest thing.
It wasn’t at all.
4
Ernie Scollay excused himself and headed to the men’s room. I went to the bar to retrieve the coffee pot in order to freshen our cups. Jackie Garner walked in while I was waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. Jackie occasionally did a little work for me, and he was a bosom buddy of the Fulcis, who looked up to him the way they did to the handful of people whom they considered saner than themselves without being square. He was carrying a bunch of flowers, and a box of fudge from the Old Port Candy Company on Fore Street.
‘For Mrs Fulci?’
‘Yeah. She likes fudge. Not almond, though. She has an allergy.’
‘We wouldn’t want to kill her,’ I said. ‘It might cast a pall over the celebrations. You okay?’
Jackie looked flustered, and distracted. ‘My mom,’ he said.
Jackie’s mother was a force of nature. She made Mrs Fulci look like June Cleaver.
‘Acting up again?’
‘Nah, she’s sick.’
‘Nothing serious, I hope.’
Jackie winced. ‘She doesn’t want people to know.’
‘How bad is it?’
‘Can we talk about it another time?’
‘Sure.’
He slipped past me, and there were cries of delight from the Fulcis’ table. They were so loud that they made Dave Evans drop a glass and reach for the phone to call the cops.
‘It’s okay,’ I told them. ‘That’s their happy sound.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘Nobody got hit.’
‘Oh thank God. Cupcake Cathy’s made her a cupcake birthday cake. She likes cupcakes, right?’
Cupcake Cathy was one of the Bear’s waitstaff. She had a sideline in baking the kind of cupcakes that led strong-willed men to propose marriage in the hope of ensuring a regular supply, even if they were married already. They figured their wives would probably understand.
‘She likes cake, as far as I know. Mind you, if there are nuts in it, it could kill her. Apparently