The Delicate Storm Read Free Page A

of.”
    “What kind of car does he drive?”
    “Orange Toyota, about a hundred years old. Even the spackling is rusty.”
    They heard the car approach before they saw it—a disembodied collection of sound effects for the Tin Man. Then it clattered past them, a dangling exhaust pipe scraping the sidewalk as it pulled into the driveway.
    “Open your door,” Cardinal said. “Let’s be ready to move.”
    “But he’s armed,” Delorme said. “Shouldn’t we call for backup?” She looked at him, those earnest brown eyes sizing him up. Cardinal thought about Delorme’s eyes more often than he would have liked.
    “Technically, yes. On the other hand, I know Robert. We’re not in a hell of a lot of danger.”
    The Toyota’s one good tail light dimmed and went out.
    Cardinal and Delorme got out of the car and left the doors open so as not to make a sound. Stepping carefully on the wet pavement, they moved in on the Toyota.
    The driver, a small man with frizzy ginger hair and a plaid scarf around his neck, got out and opened the trunk. He pulled out a bulging plastic FoodMart bag, slung a red knapsack over his shoulder and slammed the trunk shut with his elbow.
    “Robert Henry Hewitt?”
    He dropped the knapsack and the groceries and started to run, but Cardinal caught hold of his jacket and the two of them fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Then Cardinal hauled him up, and Algonquin Bay’s master thief found himself face down against the trunk of the Toyota, feet spread wide behind him.
    “If he moves, spank him,” Cardinal said, and patted him down. He pulled a pistol from a jacket pocket. “Goodness me. A firearm.”
    “That there is a toy,” Hewitt said. “I wasn’t gonna hurt nobody.”
    “Wasn’t gonna hurt nobody where?”
    “At the bank, for Chrissake.”
    “Robert, what do I say to you every time I see you?”
    Wudky turned to look over his shoulder. When he recognized Cardinal, he grinned, showing splayed front teeth in appalling condition. “Oh, hi! How you doing? I was just thinking about you, eh?”
    “Robert? What do I say to you? Every time I see you.”
    Wudky thought for a moment. “You say, ‘Stay out of trouble, Robert.’”
    “Nobody listens to me, Sergeant Delorme,” Cardinal said. “It’s a real problem. Check the knapsack there. I’d say we have probable cause.”
    Delorme unzipped the knapsack and pulled out a plump manila envelope with Federal Trust stencilled in one corner. She opened it wide and showed the contents to Cardinal.
    Cardinal gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Quite a haul there, Robert. Why, it looks like you made off with tens of dollars.”

2
    A FTER W UDKY WAS SAFELY BOOKED and in his cell, Cardinal went back to his desk to type up his supplementary reports.
    The amount of money Wudky had made off with was minuscule. If he’d stolen it from a cash register, he wouldn’t be likely to get more than probation, but Cardinal knew the Crown would insist on a charge of bank robbery and wrote his report accordingly.
    He was almost finished when Duty Sergeant Mary Flower called out to him, “Hey, Cardinal, I think you better talk to Wudky.” She was coming out of the doorway that led from the cells to the front desk.
    “Wudky?” Cardinal said. “How important can it be?”
    “He says he has information on some murder.”
    Cardinal looked over at Delorme, several desks away. She rolled her eyes.
    “Do you know how unlikely that is?” Cardinal said.
    Flower shrugged. “Tell him. Don’t tell me.”
    Cardinal and Delorme went back to the holding area. There were eight cells that formed an L between Booking and the garage. Wudky was in the second-last cell, the only one occupied at the moment.
    “I ain’t telling nothing for free,” Wudky said, trying to sound tough. He looked as forlorn a creature as Cardinal had ever seen, with his hangdog eyes and his smelly sweatshirt. “I want to like make a deal. Like so’s I can get out on bail