The corners of Bob’s mouth rose in a smile. “My cousin called me Rundbrenner Bob.”
She looked uncomprehendingly at him.
“It’s a Norwegian expression. It means someone who screws around. Arundbrenneris a big wood-burning stove. One that spreads its warmth around to a lot of people. You get it?”
“But you can’t spread warmth, Bob. Because there’s nothing burning inside you.”
“No?”
“It’s dark and cold in there, isn’t that right?”
“I’m looking Chicago,”sang Bob as he raised his glass in a salute,“and feeling Minnesota.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re not a grunge fan? So tell me about Chicago.”
“Chicago?” She emptied her glass. “I spent most of my time in Englewood and that’s not the Chicago you want to hear about.”
“Yes, I damn well do.”
“No. I saw my mother…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Forget it.”
“Forget it?”
“It’s just the booze talking. Time I was getting home to feed the cat.”
“Come on, Myers, I’m sensing a crack in your armor here.”
Kay looked at the last glass in front of her. It was still full.
“My dad ran off before I was born,” she said. “Nothing unusual about that in Englewood. Or that he was just another victim of the crack epidemic. What was special was that he would come home and rob my mother when he needed money. Because my mother had two jobs, she actually managed to put some aside for my sister and me to get an education. After the third time he broke in, beat my mother up and stole from us, she bought a gun. All she had to do was go into a store, fill out a few simple forms and she left carrying a weapon. I know you hate guns, but I tell you, when my sister and me were sleeping in my mother’s bed and she had that pistol underneath the pillow, we all felt safer. And that’s a safety you middle-class liberals know nothing about because it’s just something you take for granted. But for three girls in Englewood the gun was the great equalizer. It meant we didn’t have to be helpless victims and let someone terrorize us because he was physically stronger. It didn’t stop my mother from crying inside, but that gun changed our daily lives. Not a shot was ever fired from it, but it made us that little bit safer, we slept better, wecould go to school and get ourselves an education. And I know the statistics that show what guns can do to a society like Englewood in the long run. But I’m being honest, you don’t care a damn about the long run when your life is about surviving one night at a time.”
In silence Bob raised his glass to Kay, but she shook her head, she had to drive and she was pretty sure she was already skirting the limit.
By the time they left the bar, Bob was unsteady on his feet.
“My car’s over at Southdale,” he said to Kay as she got into her Ford, “and I need to clear my head anyway.”
“Bob,” said Kay, “you’re too drunk to drive and you shouldn’t be out at this time. Let me drive you home.”
“Thanks, sweetie, but it’s okay. Your cat awaits, and they have buses here.”
—
It began to rain as Bob was waiting for the bus. The young couple also waiting checked on a phone and told the other three at the stop that the police had canceled all public transportation until further notice because an armed suspect was believed to be loose in the area. Bob groaned and started to walk, once again cursing the fact that Minneapolis and Saint Paul were the biggest urban centers in the country without a subway system. It was too far to walk all the way home to Phillips, but he ought to be able to make it as far as Dinkytown, and from there he could pick up a bus outside Bernie’s Bar.
Maybe take a last drink there.
Maybe.
A drink and someone to talk to.
Liza.
God knows why he kept thinking about a woman with a limp who showed no interest in him and gave him nothing but sarcastic comments. Was this the level he had sunk to? On the other hand,there was something about the way she combined an acute bullshit detector with black humor, and what he suspected was a warm heart. Of course, he could have been mistaken. But he wanted to know. Not that she needed a guy like him, she knew that well enough, she’d told him straight out. Maybe it was this simple, that you start wanting someone you don’t really want once you see she doesn’t want you. Like two losers underbidding each other until one ends up a winner. Bob laughed and saw a couple of heads turn in his direction and realized he was still drunk. And wet. Soaking wet. The cashmere coat hung on him like some drowned furry animal. He passed a store window where the lights were out for the night and pressed his face to the glass. It looked like a forest at dusk, when all the creatures come out. And far inside he saw light coming from a door that was ajar. Bob hammered on the store door, long and hard, until finally the door back there opened and a man walked to the front of the store and unlocked the door. Mike Lunde took off his glasses and gave Bob an anxious look.
“Detective Oz?”
