pocket for some change. I called information in Springfield and got the number for Donnie Carr. I dialed, then dumped in the eight-five cents the operator wanted for three minutes.
A woman answered. I didn’t really know what I was going to say, so I just jumped in. “Mrs.
Carr?”
She left a pause. “No, this isn’t Mrs. Carr. Who’s this?”
“Can I speak to Mrs. Carr?”
“Who’s calling please?”
Boystown - 38
“I’m a friend of her son Brian.”
There was a gasp at the other end of the line. “Do you know where he is?”
“Yes, yes, I do.”
“She wants to see him again. She wants to see him so much.”
“I’ll let him know.” And I would, too.
“No. He needs to come right away. If you could give--”
“Has something happened?”
“Please, could you give me Brian’s phone number? Mr. Carr said he’s done everything to find him. I don’t think that’s true.”
“Where is Mr. Carr?”
“He’s not here. Please, the number. The news should come from me. I’ve been cleaning for them for almost twenty years. I used to babysit Brian. He was such a sweet--”
“What’s happened to Mrs. Carr?”
She hesitated a moment, then, “The cancer came back. So fast. Her lungs. Her liver. There isn’t much time -- ” The woman’s voice broke. It took her a moment to get hold of herself. “I’m only here because Mr. Carr asked me to pack up her things. He wants to give her things to charity.
She isn’t even dead yet.”
“Where did you say Mr. Carr was?”
“I didn’t.” I’d pushed too hard, and she’d become cautious.
She needed a nudge, so I gave it to her. “Seems awful cold, him rushing things like that.
Disrespectful.”
“He’s in Indianapolis. On a sales trip.” The way she spat the words out gave a good indication what she thought of him. “She’s been in the hospital for weeks. He’s barely taken a day off.
Please, please give me Brian’s phone number.”
I made up a number and gave it to her. Partly because I didn’t know Brian’s phone number, and partly because I wanted to be the one to decide when he found out his mother was dying.
Back in the bar, my omelet was waiting for me. It was cold. As I began eating, Brian came into the bar and put in an order at the service bar. When he saw me, he gave me a look that was Boystown - 39
colder than my omelet. If he didn’t like me now, how much was he going to hate me when I told him his mother was dying?
The place did a good business. By one o’clock it was full, and people were starting to line up, waiting to get in. A blackboard over the host’s station told you why. They had a soup and salad special for under three bucks. The place was a secretary’s delight.
The omelet had made me a little sick to my stomach, which was a good enough reason to order another Kahlua and coffee. I looked out the window and saw that it had started to snow again, pretty heavily. I thought about Donnie Carr. I took all the pieces of the puzzle apart again and put them back together. They came out the same. He wasn’t in Indianapolis. Sure, he might have gone over this morning, checked into a hotel, made a few sales calls, called around and made some appointments for tomorrow. Sometime this evening he’d be in Chicago.
I could see what he was doing. Constructing an alibi. If something happened to Brian, no one could prove Donnie knew where he was. And no one could prove he wasn’t in Indianapolis. He was coming to kill his stepson. That was the only thing that made sense. I tried to see it another way. He just wanted to talk? He wanted Brian to come home to see his mother? But none of that made sense with all the deception. Only murder made sense.
The thing I didn’t know was why Donnie wanted to kill Brian. Typically, these things were about sex or money. Even though I’d never met Donnie Carr, everything I’d heard about him made me think he was the kind of guy who liked money more than sex.
Brian’s shift
A woman answered. I didn’t really know what I was going to say, so I just jumped in. “Mrs.
Carr?”
She left a pause. “No, this isn’t Mrs. Carr. Who’s this?”
“Can I speak to Mrs. Carr?”
“Who’s calling please?”
Boystown - 38
“I’m a friend of her son Brian.”
There was a gasp at the other end of the line. “Do you know where he is?”
“Yes, yes, I do.”
“She wants to see him again. She wants to see him so much.”
“I’ll let him know.” And I would, too.
“No. He needs to come right away. If you could give--”
“Has something happened?”
“Please, could you give me Brian’s phone number? Mr. Carr said he’s done everything to find him. I don’t think that’s true.”
“Where is Mr. Carr?”
“He’s not here. Please, the number. The news should come from me. I’ve been cleaning for them for almost twenty years. I used to babysit Brian. He was such a sweet--”
“What’s happened to Mrs. Carr?”
She hesitated a moment, then, “The cancer came back. So fast. Her lungs. Her liver. There isn’t much time -- ” The woman’s voice broke. It took her a moment to get hold of herself. “I’m only here because Mr. Carr asked me to pack up her things. He wants to give her things to charity.
She isn’t even dead yet.”
“Where did you say Mr. Carr was?”
“I didn’t.” I’d pushed too hard, and she’d become cautious.
She needed a nudge, so I gave it to her. “Seems awful cold, him rushing things like that.
Disrespectful.”
“He’s in Indianapolis. On a sales trip.” The way she spat the words out gave a good indication what she thought of him. “She’s been in the hospital for weeks. He’s barely taken a day off.
Please, please give me Brian’s phone number.”
I made up a number and gave it to her. Partly because I didn’t know Brian’s phone number, and partly because I wanted to be the one to decide when he found out his mother was dying.
Back in the bar, my omelet was waiting for me. It was cold. As I began eating, Brian came into the bar and put in an order at the service bar. When he saw me, he gave me a look that was Boystown - 39
colder than my omelet. If he didn’t like me now, how much was he going to hate me when I told him his mother was dying?
The place did a good business. By one o’clock it was full, and people were starting to line up, waiting to get in. A blackboard over the host’s station told you why. They had a soup and salad special for under three bucks. The place was a secretary’s delight.
The omelet had made me a little sick to my stomach, which was a good enough reason to order another Kahlua and coffee. I looked out the window and saw that it had started to snow again, pretty heavily. I thought about Donnie Carr. I took all the pieces of the puzzle apart again and put them back together. They came out the same. He wasn’t in Indianapolis. Sure, he might have gone over this morning, checked into a hotel, made a few sales calls, called around and made some appointments for tomorrow. Sometime this evening he’d be in Chicago.
I could see what he was doing. Constructing an alibi. If something happened to Brian, no one could prove Donnie knew where he was. And no one could prove he wasn’t in Indianapolis. He was coming to kill his stepson. That was the only thing that made sense. I tried to see it another way. He just wanted to talk? He wanted Brian to come home to see his mother? But none of that made sense with all the deception. Only murder made sense.
The thing I didn’t know was why Donnie wanted to kill Brian. Typically, these things were about sex or money. Even though I’d never met Donnie Carr, everything I’d heard about him made me think he was the kind of guy who liked money more than sex.
Brian’s shift
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