Known Dead_ A Novel - Donald Harstad [74]
The gray paint on the porch steps was chipped pretty badly. Just as my foot touched the bottom step, Herman’s voice said, ‘‘Stop there, Carl.’’ He sounded pretty calm, but there was an edge to him. Good.
‘‘Shit’s gonna stop right now, Herman,’’ I said, pleasantly surprised by the steadiness of my voice. ‘‘I’ve had it.’’
Silence.
‘‘I’m coming up further, Herman. What I got to say, I don’t want to shout.’’
‘‘Put your gun down.’’
I’d forgotten about my damn gun. At least, it was pretty obvious to Herman, in its holster. That was good.
‘‘Sure, Herman. If you put yours down.’’ I took another step, and stopped. ‘‘You stay here,’’ I said softly to Hester. ‘‘Don’t forget you’re an insurance agent.’’
‘‘Watch what I’m doing,’’ I said to Herman. ‘‘You do the same.’’ I unsnapped my holster and pulled out my .40 caliber Smith & Wesson. I pointed it upward, and pressed the magazine release. The magazine slid out the bottom, and I took it in my left hand, and sat it carefully on the floor of the porch. Then, with the gun still in my right hand, I pulled the slide back with my left and caught the ejected cartridge with the same hand. Plucked it right out of the air. I love to do that. I then placed the gun on the porch floor, locked in the open position. I picked up the magazine, replaced the ejected cartridge, and put it back on the porch. I straightened up. ‘‘Shove your magazine through the door, Herman.’’
I could barely see movement through the screen. It was very bright outside, and the house was very dark. But a moment later a .30 caliber carbine magazine slipped through the screen door.
‘‘There’s more people with guns behind me,’’ said Herman.
‘‘Me too, Herman.’’ I couldn’t resist a white lie. ‘‘With a couple of armored vehicles due in about an hour.’’
It was awfully quiet.
‘‘You hear me okay in there?’’ I asked Herman, in a normal tone of voice.
‘‘Yeah.’’
‘‘Okay, Herman. Listen real good. I’ve had it. You understand me?’’
‘‘Yeah.’’
‘‘So this is what’s gonna happen, Herman. You come out onto the porch now. Then your people in the house. One at a time. You got that?’’
‘‘I got it, but I ain’t gonna do it. I don’t want no more of your tricks.’’
‘‘Yeah, you are, Herman. You’re gonna do it, and there ain’t no tricks. I’m just tellin’ you to do this to clear us of all liability. I gotta clear the liability before our insurance will let us take the house with maximum force. The armored vehicles. You understand?’’
Silence.
‘‘Our insurance carrier is Lloyds of London. They know all about dealing with the IRA and all that. They know we gotta do what we gotta do. They know that if you don’t come out now, we’re comin’ in. You understand what I’m saying, Herman?’’
Silence.
‘‘The lady standing back here is the Lloyds representative for Iowa. She’s listening to this pretty close. You see that, Herman?’’
There was some hesitation, then: ‘‘Yeah.’’
‘‘Good. And I’m sure you understand what I just said. So, in fifteen seconds, the same amount of time the SAS gave the terrorists in London, you come out or we take out everybody in the house. Legal. No lawsuit. ’Cause I warned you.’’
I turned around toward Hester. ‘‘Is that enough, lady?’’
‘‘Uh, just a moment,’’ said Hester. She looked at her watch. ‘‘The time will start in twenty seconds,’’ she said.
‘‘Okay, ma’am,’’ I said. I turned back toward the door, and was startled to see it opening. Herman stuck his head out.
‘‘We’ll give up, but I can only answer for my family.’’ He spoke rapidly, nervously. That was good.
‘‘Is that all right with Lloyds?’’ I asked Hester, without turning.
‘‘Acceptable,’’ she said tersely.
‘‘Come on,’’ said Herman. ‘‘It’s over.’’
Herman, his wife, his two sons, and a daughter-in-law slowly emerged from the dark interior of the house, and came onto the porch. All lightly dressed in dark clothes, looking hot, sweaty, and very nervous.