Tracking Shot, Colin Campbell [moboreader TXT] 📗

sat facing McNulty to show that he could play it cool as well. He didn’t cross his legs though. McNulty waved at the movie poster for Heat on the wall.

“Michael Mann doesn’t make shit either.” He looked the skinny guy in the eye. “Most quoted line from that movie is, ‘Don’t get attached to anything you’re not willing to walk out on in thirty seconds flat if you feel the heat coming round the corner.’ But you know what my favorite is?”

It was a rhetorical question. Nobody asked so McNulty told them. “‘It rains, you get wet.’” His expression turned sad, as if he didn’t want this to happen. “I think you guys are going to get wet.”

The skinny guy didn’t bite. He sat for a moment, then changed the subject. “You come to get my brother in the movies again?”

McNulty smiled. “I didn’t come for your brother last time.”

The other three men and Billy Bob stood behind their spokesman, showing solidarity and bulk. Five against one. Not good odds if it came to a fight. McNulty didn’t want this to become a fight. Best way to avoid that was to keep talking, keep it light, and smile a lot. People rarely punched somebody who was smiling at them.

“I didn’t come about a dent in the roof either.” McNulty rested one arm on the table. This was the tricky part. “I’ve come to talk about your new friends.”

“What new friends?”

McNulty’s tone hardened. “The ones who are going to bring the rain.”

FORTY-THREE

The classic interview technique of good cop bad cop is so true that it’s become a cliché. The theory is that the good cop shows empathy with the interviewee and therefore elicits information because the subject wants to please him after being battered by the bad cop. The trouble here was that McNulty didn’t have a bad cop to play off of so he’d have to hope the good cop would be enough. John Carpenter started playing something else, these were obviously his greatest hits, but nobody was listening.

McNulty empathized. “I’ll say this up front.” It was time to make the Cloverleaf Boys seem less like the villains. “I don’t think you’re in on all of this.” He let that sink in for a second. “You’ve got to live here after. No matter how much they offered you, this is your home. You might upgrade but you’re staying put.”

Nobody spoke. The men stood firm behind their spokesman. The spokesman didn’t speak, he simply watched McNulty with fierce eyes. McNulty turned up the good cop by adding a smile. “Maybe get rid of the rat pit, but…” He shrugged. “You’re not going anywhere.”

John Carpenter was just a whisper in the background.

“What these guys have got planned, thousand umbrellas won’t keep you dry.”

The skinny guy shifted in his chair but kept quiet. No admissions. No denials. McNulty decided to throw some facts at him. “Let me describe them for you. So you know what I’m talking about. Solid looking guys. Military haircuts. Black fatigues. Utility belts and handguns. Sound familiar?”

The spokesman still didn’t speak. McNulty continued. “They wanted you to restore the carnival float and pack it with explosives. Probably told you it’s for the distraction while they hit the armored truck. Blow the float up somewhere away from the route to draw the cops. Give you a percentage after the heist. Something like that?”

Still no admission. Still no denial.

“But it’s not going down like that. Because here’s what you don’t know.” McNulty uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Solid looking guy. Military haircut. Black fatigues. That’s the guy shot five people on a movie set just to get the police looking the wrong way.”

He fixed his eyes on the skinny guy’s. “How many d’you think they’re gonna kill for a million-dollar getaway?”

That was the good cop throwing in a little bad. The cabin became quiet apart from John Carpenter whispering The Thing, which wasn’t really John Carpenter, in the background. Nervous glances were exchanged among the four men standing. The spokesman didn’t take his eyes off McNulty.

“That’s bold talk for a one-eyed fat man.”

McNulty laughed, the smile borderline genuine. “Robert Duval to John Wayne in True Grit.” He put one hand over his eye again. “I like the way you did that. Transferring the eye patch from Snake Plissken to Rooster Cogburn.” He nodded his approval. “You know your movies, too.”

The skinny guy shifted in his seat. “Point being, that’s a big accusation for a lone man against five.”

“Who said I’m alone?”

That provoked more uneasy glances. Two of the men went to the window and looked out across the turnaround. One of them split off and looked out the side window over the rat pit.

McNulty raised his hands. “Just kidding. I am alone. But that’s not an accusation, it’s a fact. And forensic examination will prove it after the event. Me. I want to stop the event before it happens because this is going to be worse than shooting five people.”

He lowered his hands. “And the only percentage you’re going to get is one-hundred percent of the blame. All of it.”

The two men at the windows kept watch in case McNulty hadn’t been joking. The other two stood behind their leader. McNulty could almost see the cogs turning behind the skinny guy’s eyes as he thought it through before sitting up straight and sticking his chest out. “We repair cars.”

McNulty gave him a smirk that said, “Yeah, right. Cars that are stolen to order and altered, resprayed and renumbered.” He threw in a half-lie for good measure. “Waltham P-D know all about you. Told me I was a fool for coming down here the last time. Said you boys were unstable.”

The skinny man leaned forward. “If they meant volatile, they got that right. Makes you more of a fool for coming down here a second time.”

McNulty waved a finger. “Except, if they knew I was here before, they know where I am now. Where do you think’s