Evil's Root

Chapter 11

Ted waited at the front desk while the clerk retrieved his message. He glanced around as though someone might suspect his motives, and he found it difficult to relax.

"Your message, sir, and your key. Enjoy your stay at the Portsdown." The smile was unctuous.

Ted checked the room number and headed to the elevator. He stepped in and pushed four, pressing right against the back of the compartment and squeezing the briefcase. A quick check of his watch showed about an hour and a half before the robbery would take place.

The message was for an appointment the following morning with a Mr. Graves at the Portsdown Credit Union. He exited the elevator, found the room and immediately opened the bar, digging out the mini vodkas and downing three right out of the bottles. Mr. Graves was going to be most disappointed tomorrow. He wondered how quickly he would contact Barry. Not quick enough.

Ernie closed the magazine and left his post beside the hotel confection counter. His nerves were starting to twang as the time approached and he wondered if he should risk a call to Sandra to let her know he was there. Probably not a good idea. He didn't want her to think he was a wimp. He dug around in his pack and felt the gun; he'd show her he was no wimp. He saw by the lobby clock he still had plenty of time so he asked the way to the restaurant and decided to settle down in there and maybe have a sundae.

ööööö

Gwen pulled the car into the parking lot of the small strip mall and found a spot in the shade. It would be a while before she was needed so she locked up the car and went into the department store to kill the time. Thoughts of Barry kept popping into her head and she felt her neck heat up as though other people could read them.

He had certainly surprised her. in more ways than one. Ted could use some of whatever Barry was eating that was for sure. She fingered the material on some lingerie, sorting through the range of colours, and again pictured herself with Barry. Christ! This has to stop, she chided herself, moving to another section of the store.

Once on that boat, Gwen felt she would be free at last. Free from a dull, purposeless marriage. Free from boring days and nights. Free to kick up her heels like nobody had kicked up heels before. Gwen was girding herself for battle and she knew exactly the battle she wanted to undertake.

They were called cougars at her age, and she would make bloody sure they knew how dangerous a big cat could be. Her focus snapped back and she found herself crushing a pair of men's jockey shorts in her hand

"They are wrinkle-proof," an obliging saleslady offered. "Are you interested?"

Gwen dropped the garment and shook her head, her cheeks flaming. "Not any more."

ööööö

Sandra hauled her suitcase out to the car and stowed it in the trunk. It would take about four hours from now to be where she needed to be, hoping beyond hope that Ernie would do his job. He would be out of luck for his suitcase but then that would be the least of his disappointments. The rest didn't worry her, there was too much desire for the end result to not succeed. She locked up her apartment and stuck an envelope with the final rent in the door.

"So long, old space." She hopped into her reliable old Chevy, started the engine, cranked up the radio and with a western yahoo, sped down the street and out of town.

ööööö

Ernie wiped his mouth and licked the spoon one last time then squared his shoulders and headed for the stairs. He wouldn't use the elevator; Ernie was thinking everything through - no dust on his table. At the fourth floor he sneaked a peak into the hallway and when he was sure it was clear he slipped quickly down to Ted's room and knocked rapidly.

He waited, pulling his ski mask down over his face and then knocked again. Inside he heard a man's weak voice ask to wait, and then the door opened and he pushed in quickly, waving his gun threateningly.

"Whoa! What's with the gun?" Ted backed away, as the man closed the door, pointing to the bed. "There's the case, maybe you should tie me up or something, then go."

"Open it." The sound was muffled and Ted looked blankly at the man. "OPEN IT!"

"What? I can't, it's a combination lock. Just take it like you're supposed to and go."

"How do I know there's anything in it?"

"What? Jesus, either speak up or shut up." Ted was feeling all the liquor now and his fear factor was waning.

He jammed his hands onto his hips and stuck his head forward. "You wanna get paid for this you goddamn well do as I say. Now take the damn case and get the hell out."

Ernie waved his gun, looked at Ted and then at the case and in a completely and unintentionally spontaneous reaction, squeezed the trigger.

ööööö

Barry stared out of the window, seeing nothing but a blur of scenery as the car swept down the coastal highway, well beyond the limit. He still wasn't certain exactly what happened, but since he first walked into the travel office and propositioned Heidi, he'd received a graphically dramatic preview of what could be if his promises came true.

He arranged for a transfer of one hundred thousand dollars to a new, joint business account that Heidi magically arranged and with nothing but his clothes, back on his back, was zooming toward an only previously imagined future, with a domineering Valkyrie.

He thought fleetingly of the journal hidden in his desk and of Doris. He also reflected on his session with Gwen, putting a brighter outlook on his present circumstance. Doris who?

"It will be soon, Mr. Stein," Heidi's silky voice announced as she hurtled past an old model Chevy on the inside, oblivious to the nasty glare from the driver.

"I hope so. And could you call me Barry, at least. I think formalities are a tad redundant now."

"I enjoy formalities." Her hand reached across and squeezed his thigh. "It keeps relationships on a more elegant plane, don't you agree?"

He could only nod. The pain in his leg brought tears to his eyes and a question to his mind - have I really done the right thing?

ööööö

Sandra pulled a face and glared at the passing car, confusion changing her attitude as she thought she saw a familiar face. By the time she thought to catch up, the car was sailing over the crest of a rise in the highway and into the horizon.

She checked the dashboard clock and figured another forty minutes to the marina and then maybe three hours to cast off time. She ran through the participants in her head and pictured each of them as they played out their parts. Ernie would be mortified having to report his failure. Ted would be a rogue shooting star when he discovered what happened and old Barry would be heart attack material.

A favourite song came on the radio station, and she forgot about the other players, the rude car driver, and joined the artist at the top of her lungs.