U Is for Undertow

that what you want?”
    “Of course not. If there were any other way out, don’t you think I’d jump at it?”
    “How the fuck do you expect to go up against the cops? They’ll grill your sorry ass from here to next Tuesday until you tell ’em what went down. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you didn’t act alone. They’ll want you to name names, and mine’s the only one on the list.”
    “I already told you this isn’t about you.”
    “Yes, it is, you asshole. It’s about me the minute you open your damn mouth, which I’m telling you not to do.”
    “Maybe I can make a deal. I tell ’em what I know as long as I don’t have to talk about anyone else. Just my part.”
    “Great. That’s swell. I can see it now. ‘Gosh, Mr. FBI Agent, I’m willing to incriminate myself, but I want to be fair to the other guy.’ That’s not how it happens. Not with those guys. You’ve got no leverage. I’m the only thing you have to trade. Once you give yourself up, you’ll turn around and give me up, too.”
    Walker’s tone shifted. “You’re forgetting it was your idea.”
    “My idea? Bullshit. It was Destiny’s dumb-ass plan.”
    “But she didn’t act on it and neither did Creed. You were the one who figured all the angles—”
    “While you were doing what?”
    “I did what you told me. You were always the man in charge. It was your show from the get-go. Now there’s a price to pay. This isn’t easy for me, you know? I have a wife and kids. What do you think is going to happen to them if I come forward?”
    “Correction. You had a wife and kids. Now you got shit. You’re living in a crappy motel, dining on candy bars. Carolyn tossed you out on your ass.” He gestured impatiently. “Oh, skip that. Who cares? How much does she know, or do I dare inquire?”
    “Nothing. I’ve never breathed a word to her.”
    “Well, that’s a comfort. Walker, listen to me. I’m begging you to think about this and think hard. You’re in a righteous lather because you want to cleanse your own soul, but the first time you speak up, you’ll fall into a pile of shit from which you’ll never extract yourself. You can’t put me in the line of fire in the name of conscience.”
    “It’s going to look better if I own up to my part before Michael Sutton rats us out. I’ve got that private eye breathing down my neck. She’s already put part of it together, the business about the dead dog. I didn’t think she could make the connection, but now it seems pretty fuckin’ obvious that I’m it.”
    “So you’re linked to a dead dog? Why would that inspire your running to the cops? It’s not like that shit our parents laid on us when we were kids. ‘All you have to do, son, is tell the truth. As long as you’re honest, there won’t be any punishment.’ ”
    Walker shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before this whole thing blows. I can feel it in my bones.”
    “If you quit worrying and keep your mouth shut, we’ll be fine.”
    “I don’t think I can.”
    “Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. I love the life I lead. I’m fond of my own ass. I don’t want to die. I’m a respectable member of the community and I won’t go down without a fight.”
    “Then you better come up with an alternative. I’m giving you fair warning. That’s the best I can do.”

30

    Wednesday evening, April 20, 1988

    When I got home from work, I tossed the mail on the kitchen counter, turned on the lights, and sat down at my desk. I needed to organize my thoughts. With the investigation in tatters, it seemed imperative to catalog what I knew, consigning the details to index cards. There had to be a pattern, an overview into which all the little pieces would fit. Like an optical illusion, I was waiting for the shift, one image flipping over to its counterpart.
    In both junior high and high school, I had trouble staying focused in classes where I was doing poorly, math being my weakest subject. Faced with a “thought” problem, my mind inevitably wandered to other matters. The math whizzes grasped the setup on sight. Not only could they divine the crux of the matter, but they’d start licking their pencil points and scribble the solution while I was still squirming in my seat. I wasn’t stupid by any stretch. I was easily distracted and my attention would shift to details that turned out to be irrelevant.
    A train leaves Chicago for Boston traveling sixty miles an hour, while a second train leaves